


Night's King

by plgrm



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Psychology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plgrm/pseuds/plgrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... Why, for the god’s sake, did he choose this road? He should have made a turn at Hornwood junction, go to the White Harbor: it would be possible to get lost among thousands of citizens, and then to get hired at a ship and sail to Braavos or to the King’s Landing Harbor. Sailing was something he could have managed...</p>
<p>Theon escapes from Dreadfort on his own and, well, chooses the wrong road. AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well, at first it was written in russian, so I'd like to thank the translator - Istericon. Maybe U met her, she's a wonderful girl from Kiev obsessed with all kind of "frenemies") about fic. it'll be a long-long story, but I hope you'll enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Nothing can make us lonelier than we are;

no one can betray us more painful than ourselves.

©

  
  
Why, for the god’s sake, did he choose this road? He should have made a turn at Hornwood junction, go to the White Harbor: it would be possible to get lost among thousands of citizens, and then to get hired at a ship and sail to Braavos or to the King’s Landing Harbor. Sailing was something he could have managed.

The stolen knife dangled at his belt. What’s the use of it now anyways? Two sleepless nights of his runaway went to rack and ruin. If those four, who are now racing across the field, will manage to get him, his plans are unlikely to ever come true.

Just not here. Just not now, as this goddamned smoke spreads the sickening smell of burnt flesh all around the valley. There must be lots of them in the fire, forsaken by horsemen, if this smell reaches him one hundred metres away, on the other side of the abutment, making him clench the reins stronger in faint hope to stay in the saddle.

Fucking smoke. Fucking smell. All the determination he gained in the first days after the leave from Dreadfort was now gone without a trace. An hour ago he knew for sure that he would rather kill himself than get caught; now he couldn’t even think about it, pulling the reins with trembling hands. Those peasant children just wouldn’t get out of his thoughts. In his mind he could still hear their screams, muffled by the distance to the river where he was hiding, while his soldiers _were dealing_ with them. All that wouldn’t let him concentrate on his way now. He clenched the belt with pale fingers, untill it hurt, turning hectically to the right, from where the four were nearing. Their armour glistened in the sunlight, and the horsemen were leaning a little towards the mane of their first-rate equines.

They are going to get him.

End it now, he thought to himself.

Fugitive’s horse dove into the grove and he closed his eyes. Branches whipped against his arms and legs. He wasn’t controling the mare no more, entrusting it with his life and hiding his face into its soft mane. The grove won’t save him. The horsemen were overtaking, no matter how hard he squeezed the horse’s sides.

\- No, no, no…

They were so close that it seemed they could have reached the mare’s tail with their hands. But the horsemen weren’t moving. No flags. Visors are down.

\- Shit…

He did try to reach for the knife, but failed to hold the balance – the saddle slipped away, and the fugitive collapsed to the ground at a full gallop. The blow sent sharp pain to his shoulder, then he got upended and suddenly he was in the air without a slightest support. The fear took his breath away, but in a moment his flight was over – at the bottom of the rocky trench. He was lying in a creek, trying to make himself breath and watching four silhouettes, who jumped over him to the other side of the ditch.

As they came back, he made a desperate effort and managed to rise on his knees. He swang with a knife in front of himself, as if he could fend off a possible attack with it. The horsemen towering up over him, as four black ghosts. Even their horses stood still.

\- Who are you? I’m asking: who are you?! Which house do you belong to?

He was twirling, like a hunted animal, turning from one to another. Their horses were equally black, and the horsemen themselves seemed all alike – inexorably straight, tall, all-powerful. Suddenly one of them reached for his sheath.

\- What do you want from me?! – he stepped back instinctively, but his back touched the bare tree roots, which tore the walls of the trench. There was nowhere to run. Everything ends here. He fell on his knees into the freezing water, tears were streaming down his face. Fugitive hung his head.

\- Kill me, - all the strength suddenly left him. There was no voice, just a whisper. – Kill me, kill me, please just kill me…

He was waiting for an ice-cold blow, but there was none. And then he threw himself towards them, and there came the blow. He dropped the knife, reeled and collapsed to the bottom of the trench for the second time. In a minute a thick pole he was hit on his nape with fell into the stream next to him. The fifth knight, who was standing on the other side of a ditch, opposite to his associates, threw his hands up in the air, as if he was sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

Soft touch to his neck pulled him out from unconsciousness. The man grasped somebody’s hand and his eyes flew open.

\- What are you doing? – dark shadows, born by a fuming candle, danced on a low vault. The source of light was obstructed by a dark silhouette, frozen menacingly on the left of his bed. – Oh no, - his voice became hoarse from fear. – No, no, no, no!

He trashed violently on the bed, trying to rise, but he lacked the strength, besides, the one, whose hand he held a second ago, now was trying to grasp his fingers himself. Uncomfortable position of his foe got him several minutes, and he almost managed to get himself up, but the stranger deprived him of all his chances to escape at once. Leaning with his knee on the bed, he threw his other leg over Theon’s body, painfully squeezing his sides and pinning both of his hands down to the bed.

\- Calm down, or I’ll whack you again, - said woman’s voice.

Fear was replaced by astonishment. The stranger, towering over him, was apparently forty years old. Her face was still beautiful, but straight facial features, square cheekbones and stiff line of her lips made it look too determined and rough for a woman. Her brown hair was gathered at the back of the head, and she was dressed, like a man – that’s what got him tricked. Still, she was a woman. It was damn easy for him to throw her off to the floor and run away.

\- You are a lucky one, - her words surprised him so much that for a second he stopped thinking about escape. – Judging by the amount of the scars, you stayed by Bolton’s bastard long enough to die. However, you are still alive. If I were you I wouldn’t beg for death.

Woman let him go, climbing off the bed. She picked up a patch of cloth, soaked with something, and meticulously examined it.

\- How did you find out?

\- Your "friend" sent a raven early in the morning. Offers 300 golden dragons for your head. I wonder, what could one do in order for even Bolton’s bastard to assess him higher than a herd of Dornish sand steed?

She reached for the vial, which was standing on the table, took off the lid and turned the vial over, moistening the cloth patch.

\- Will I be extradited?

\- Theon Greyjoy, - his own name, almost forgotten, grated on his ears. – My son swore allegiance to Robb Stark. Just like you. But unlike you, he stayed with him till the very end, - she kept looking at the dark spot, spreading across the patch of cloth. – Until lord Bolton stabbed him in the back with his sword on the Red Wedding. Whose side should I take now?...

\- You are lady Lyessa.

He was at the Widow’s Watch – in the fort of the very end of the foreland, which was jutting out into the Shivering Sea and protecting the White Harbor and other cities from the threats, which could be brought from the side of the sea. Flints were the only ones, who didn’t pledge allegiance to Roose Bolton as he became the Warden of the North. But there were objective reasons to that.

Lyessa Flint pressed the wet cloth against his neck, and the pain burnt him with a cold fire.

\- You lost your consciousness and fell into the stream. One of the stones ripped up the skin. What a loser, - obvious bitterness in her words made him think that the last sentence was most likely addressed to her fallen son, not to the man in front of her.

\- Why do you…

\- Don’t flatter yourself. Yes, lord Bolton won’t come to us quite for a while, but this filthy illness killed one third of my people. There are almost no servants left.

\- Why were you without flags and coats of arms there, in the field?

\- We’ve burnt a third card with those who died from the illness. Third for a month. Do you think we should send flag bearers, set the tables and call the minstrels on such occasion?... Besides, without knowledge of who we are, Bolton’s agents wouldn’t be able to kill us.

\- Were they there? – he felt as if his heart skipped several beats.

\- Judging by the fact of your presence here – I think not, - noticed lady Flint coolly.

Theon closed his eyes helplessly. He won’t be able to bear it anymore if the nightmare comes back.

\- Please, let me stay.

\- And save the one, who betrayed the lords of Winterfell? The one, who neared the end? If Greyjoys stayed on the Iron Islands, Stark would never decide to make an alliance with Freys. I think you deserve every single bit of what has happened to you.

The words fell as a sentence. He didn’t dare to look away from the darkened eyes, from lips, tightly squeezed together. Lyessa Flint looked at him as if it was him (not Bolton) who killed her son. He couldn’t find the necessary words – any of them, as well as the sound of his voice, would appear sacrilegious now. The only thing that saved the flame of hope within his mind, was her hand, still pressing the compress to the wound on his neck.

\- My lady!

A confused maid froze on the doorstep.

\- Anything is wrong, Mirra? – Lyessa’s voice sounded cold and distant.

\- My lady, I’m right from the archers. Their commander, sir Reinis… Sir Reinis is dead, my lady.


	3. Chapter 3

Cold surface of the Shivering sea was a shining lead. They were gone so far that there was nothing to catch one’s eye on the skyline - no ships, not a single piece of land. It seemed as if the ship was standing on the surface of the endless mirror. Only the sea and sky - lead to lead. God knows how much they have stood here before Lyessa turned away from the wind, which threw the strands of her unruly hair on her face, and ordered to begin. Two archers, the wards of Reinis Bramen, carried a large baked clay jar, and put it by the side of the stern. Both boys looked hesitantly at Lady Flint.

\- I ... - the words stuck in her throat, and she turned helplessly to the sea. She should have said something that could support those few, who still survived, but she failed to find words. Too many funeral speeches were given by her lately. First, the elder son, then a junior, killed by disease, and now sir Reinis. She hoped that her husband, Lord Cole Flint, who went on the advice Reinis Bramen to find meisters, was still alive, despite the lack of news about him. Lyessa silently turned and left the deck, locking herself in a cabin.

In a while, she realized that the ship moved. "Well, - gloated the woman, referring to herself. - Your orders are no longer needed." Discreet knock interrupted her bitter thoughts.

\- My lady? - One of the archers hesitantly opened the door. What was his name? This mercenary appeared in the castle only a month ago, and his name constantly kept slipping from her mind, despite the fact that Bramen dragged around this blond guy behind him and seemed to want him be his successor. Lyessa disliked him: too polite for someone who was born at the Flea Bottom, and too smart for a simple student.

\- It was you who ordered to go to the port?

\- Yes, Madam, - his bright, sharp-nosed face was still peeking in the doorway as he stood on the threshold, pretending to be hesitant. - We scattered the ashes of sir Reinis, as he requested, and are now going back to the castle.

\- You’ve done an excellent job without me; why come to my cabin?

\- Lady Flint - archer finally crossed the threshold, gently closing the door, - We all know that sir Reinis was close as a father to you, but, believe me, every single man in our squad grieves for him.

\- Especially you.

\- My lady?

\- And in a sign of mourning you come to beg me for a position of the commander.

On the contrary to Lyessa’s expectations, he did not get embarrassed; he stepped forward and spoke, determined and annoyed, with his hand on his heart, as if to prove his sincerity.

\- If you hope that your mourning will protect you from Bolton or pirates, who, by the way, are already aware of the fact that Lord Flint left the castle, then you are deeply mistaken. God knows how many soldiers will be taken by the disease, and on top of that you leave the squad decapitated. I can only view this decision as a betrayal, and if it had been up to be, I would ...

His sword clanged in its sheath, and its tip pierced him lightly in the stomach. Lyessa did not even have to get up - archer got on dangerously close distance himself.

\- I did not interrupt you just because I do not even remember your name, sir beggar, - she climbed out of bed. Archer took a step back. - But with a weapon, conversations tend to get simpler and clearer. After we reach the shore, you will leave Widow’s Watch. And now - get lost.

Archer glanced at his sword, but Lyessa not move a finger. He took another couple of steps back and then suddenly smiled.

\- As you wish, my lady, - the blond bowed deeply and left the cabin without a hurry.


	4. Chapter 4

It seemed like his fingers turned into bottle corks, thick and motionless under a dozen layers of fabric bandage. Theon raised a bow, trying to shake off the feeling that he is pulling the bowstring with a piece of wood pressed against it, but the string jumped off and another arrow landed in a chicken coop, missing the target that was prepared for it. He furiously threw away his bow and walked to the wall of the building. Boots sank in the mud of the barnyard. Clucking hens rushed away from him. He reached for the tip, but the arrow was hard to pull out. Theon jerked her angrily and the effort echoed painfully into the wound on his neck. He instinctively pressed his hand against the bandage, turned and froze. Next to the abandoned bow there was a girl in a long dress with sleeves rolled up. She dropped to the ground two empty buckets that were in her hands, and stood up abruptly.

\- What are you doing here? Where did you get the bow?

\- By the armorer’s assistant. He said there are many free bows now. If one goes to me, perhaps, your lady will leave me at the castle.

\- To shoot chickens?

Instead of answering, Theon pulled the bow string once again and bent fingers, overcoming the pain. It was almost a triumph – the fired arrow stuck into the wall to the left of the target.

\- Oh, I understand why you fight among the hens. You are afraid that real archers would laugh.

\- There are no better archers than those who live on the Iron Islands, - he avoided looking at the girl.

\- Iron Islands? Where is it?

\- On the other end of the world, - said Theon, while going for an arrow. Unfortunately, the maid wouldn’t leave. He came back and picked up the bow. And once again his arrow hit the plank wall of the coop.

\- Perhaps you should move the target?

Unlike Theon’s attempts, her mockery reached the target every single time, and this remark was the last straw. Alas, as he opened his mouth, the maid waved her hand, picked up her skirt and ran after the arrow herself. He was sure that now she will require the bow as well, but the girl just held the arrow out.

\- You're doing everything right, except for one thing, and your wound have nothing to do with it, - maid - almost as tall as him - stood behind, took a bow atop Theon’s hand and touched the string between his fingers. - What are you waiting for, when you take aim? ... Or are you remembering the hunt with Lord Ramsay? - Theon felt that his breath became short and cautious against his own will. - My elder sister’s name was Miranda. He hunted her down with dogs.

In an instant, she turned him to the left and almost simultaneously pinned a white lump of feathers down to the ground. Poor bird did not even make a sound, only a few feathers, circling, settled near the killed chicken.

\- When the target is in front of you, you do not have the luxury of waiting. You can throw out of your head everything else.

She lifted the bucket and went to a wounded bird. Putting the hen in into one of the buckets, she stood up with the same smile.

\- Well, except for one thing. Don’t you manage to blurt out that the best archers live on the Iron Islands, here, at the Widow's Watch. Even if there is just a woman in front of you.


	5. Chapter 5

\- With all due respect, my lady, we are no soldiers and no peasants, - deep bass of the fleet commander rumbled under the arches of a dark negotiation room. - Widow's Watch - as a mercenary on the wall who serves while he gets money and shelter. Our business is scouting. To send the best ships with a half of garrison to the sea is like to drop the armor in the midst of battle. Yes, you have the best archers in the northeast, but what do you think will happen if Boltons decide to drop by? A handful of soldiers will not protect the castle.

\- If the ships do not budge, there won’t be even a handful of people left, sir Borras.

\- Captain Borras.

\- Captain Borras - Lyessa rose from the table and walked to the small window in the wall of the Dark Tower. She did not like this part of the castle for the greyness, caused by the small number of windows, but it was this place where her husband spent all his councils. And now, being forced to give orders directly after the death of Reinis, she decided not to change the tradition. Lyessa was holding a sword that belonged to the blond archer. She looked at the weapon with a carved handle, topped with a head of the snake, and continued, determined not to hide her confusion. – There are not much more than one thousand three hundred people left on the Watch. That’s what Bolton and others think. But I deliberately provide them with wrong numbers. In fact, we have eight hundred nineteen people, Captain Borras. And I do not know whether to be glad or not. After all, if many of us die, we'll get a new Lord of Winterfell, if too little - we shall starve to death. You can see it perfectly from the meister’s records – there only enough provision to survive for three weeks.

\- Perhaps it is time to meet with Roose Bolton. If you swear allegiance, we will get support.

Lyessa laughed.

\- Oh yes, and your head will be placed at the lance by the gates. I will be glorified as another tragically lost bride of his bastard, and my new husband - as Lord of Winterfell, Dreadfort, Hornwood and Widow’s Watch. But there won’t be songs about us. There will be songs about the massacre, after which even the Red Wedding will be forgotten, Captain Borras. You know better than me, how our people regard those, whose coat of arms portrays a skinned person.

She shuddered involuntarily.

\- Sometimes I thank the disease, - continued Lyessa. - It was the only thing which kept people from the desire to visit the traitors with swords and pitchforks.

\- Then you should pray for your ward to recover before the epidemic is gone.

Lyessa turned. Captain Borras, full-bodied and high, was sitting in a half turn to the table. His woolen tunic was criss-crossed by frayed straps on his chest. North and years of voyages weaned him from the luxury, although he was born in King's Landing, in a family of the knight, who served successfully Aegon the Incredible. His father was one of those, who delivered meister Aemon to the to Eastwatch on the "Golden Dragon". Not expecting that himself, with his stories sir Borras Sr. brought up the desire to seek the fortune in the seas of the North in his son.

In what the man said there was no more desire to hurt her than there was a feigned gloss in his sturdy, but discreet clothes. Lyessa leaned on the handle of the sword, nodding slightly as a sign that she is ready to listen.

\- People have heard about the huge ransom. He is your advantage in negotiations. Use him as a bargaining chip.

As a sign of respect, she did not immediately reject the captain’s proposal, but, when she returned to the table, she said clearly and firmly.

\- There will be no negotiations with Boltons. I order to get rid of coats of arms and other noticeable signs on the five ships. Turn three of them into fishing vessels and hire the crews in Sistertone. Let some of our people protect them, but take care of disguise. No one should know that the ships of the diseased castle are spread all over sea. Another ship will go to Braavos. Our armorer will explain you why. You, Captain Borras, will head to Port of Ibben. I give you the "Storm", the fastest and most reliable ship, as well as the right to speak on my behalf. Get me as many savages as you can. Promise them strong walls, wine, gold, mirrors, beads, women, warm weather - anything. I'm waiting for you with a fleet of whalers and stocks of whale fat. The sooner, the better.

She waited for the fleet commander to say that she lost her mind, but the captain Borras remained silent. She thought that he was aware of the plans of Stannis to attack the King’s Landing, that the Lannisters will soon be too occupied to pay attention to the vassals in the far North. Or he could recall that the ones who recently sworn allegiance to Boltons will support of the rebels; especially Hornwood, whose lady was starved by Ramsey. In the end, during her words about the whale fat Borras could see the flame her eyes, which was destined to burn the murderers of her son. However, Lyessa had no idea of how far she was from the truth. Seeing how much frozen pain was in her eyes and in a tight line of the bloodless lips, old captain could not find better words of comfort than silence. He said goodbye to Lady Flint and the doomed castle in his thought as he got up from the table.

\- Sir Borras, - Lyessa’s voice sounded way too light and confident, but the mistake in the way of addressing him betrayed her. Captain waited. - Before you start preparations, make sure that the owner of this blade is put outside the gates before sunset.

\- What's his name, Lady Flint?

\- I have no idea. But you will discover him easily. He is the only archer who has no sword. By the way, do you know whose weapon is that? - She raised the sword. - It wasn’t forged by us.

The captain frowned, looking at the blade. The feigned imperturbable smile remained on Lyessa’s face.

\- This is the sword of someone, who appreciates our archer more than we do, Lady Flint. That's all I can say.

Fleet Commander bowed. When he left the room, Lyessa threw a sword against the wall and covered her face with her hands.


	6. Chapter 6

Jenny – that was that girl’s name. She worked in the kitchen, and almost every night appeared at his so-called trainings in the corner between the henhouse and the arsenal, located at the foot of the Dark Tower, which was long and narrow, like a sunset shadow. Like other buildings at the Watch, it was built of white stone, but blacksmith’s workshops fumed it every day and night, while the sea winds, salt and cold only whitened the walls of the fortress and Storm Tower, which was the main height of the castle.

Usually the girl sat on a log stacked in the box and started talking nonsense. Theon replied in monosyllables, but all in all he didn’t mind her company. Once Jenny dragged him on a tour around the castle and the inhabitants of the Widows Watch met him without malice, but their glances were cold and wary. The fortress, exhausted by disease and the threat of invasion was not quite hospitable.

The uninvited guest, left on his own, devoted all the time to trainings. The wound on his neck was healed, the pain was either gone, or became customary, and Theon felt himself a little better. He went to the gunsmith at dawn and returned only when the darkness became so thick that even bright spot of target got dissolved in it. Now, as his freedom was regained, he eagerly tried to get back at least a fragment of the life he had before Dreadfort.

He had not seen Lady Flint since she left his room along with the maid that brought the sad news. Theon met her only once, before the noon, when the castle just began to deal with his everyday duties. Lyessa Flint stood in a covered passage that connected the Storm Tower with the Dark one and its arsenal, just as it was in Winterfell, and watched him from above, both hands put on the fencing. Theon just returned from a wooden wall with a couple of arrows, that got stuck in it, as usual, instead of a target. It seemed as if the mistress of the castle was looking through him, lost in thought. He turned to the target, raised the weapon, but then, cursing his trembling hands, lowered his bow and looked back. The passage was empty.

The greater was his surprise when he open the door of his room in the afternoon and found Lyessa in it. Lady Flint sat in a chair by the window.

\- Get dressed, - she almost threw a bunch of clothes to his hands and stood up. – I’m waiting for you in a stable.

 

***

 

It was a set of travel clothing. Putting it on, Theon was distraught, but when he found out that there was a quilted jacked under the woolen cloak, unpleasant feeling chilled his heart. No matter where the mistress of the castle dragged him, being somewhere where armor could be needed was the last of things he wished for.

When he came down, Lady Flint was already in the saddle, holding a small box mounted behind her with her hand. There were two sheaths on her belt. Slightly ahead of her bay mare stood a gunsmith who held the reins of the black horse, which shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Theon took his place, and they silently set off in the direction opposite to the exit. He did not even have time to ask the question, before Lyessa turned to the penultimate paddock, and then her horse casually pushed the wall with her head and it opened easily, appearing to be a disguised door. Trying to conceal his surprise, Theon touched the sides of his horse with his heels and dived into the darkness behind Lady Flint. This darkness was not scary: it was filled with the warm smell of hay and grain. Not being able to see anything in front of him except for barely visible crupper of the bay mare, Theon inexplicably felt that they were going through a huge room, probably through one of the warehouses. Finally, it started to brighten up, and a few minutes later they were out of the building. The horses' hooves began to get stuck in the mud of the barnyard.

\- But ... how did we ...

\- Some people don’t necessarily need to know about my absence.

They were crossing the same spot where his trainings took place. After they turned around the corner of the arsenal building for a couple of times, they got to the dead end in front of the forgotten gates. Like an invisible shadow, a human figure separated from trees.

\- Have a nice trip, my lady, - said the stranger and calmly opened the moss-covered fold, which seemed to be completely buried in the ground. The closed gate made the same impression on the outside.

\- If I were you, I would have guarded the entrance - said Theon to her back.

\- Well, it is guarded, - Lyessa turned to him, - every day, from dawn to dusk. Why do you think the assistant armorer sent you precisely here?...


	7. Chapter 7

They rode along the rocky shore, where only their wool cloaks saved them from the wind that did not meet any other barriers. Widow’s Watch was left behind. From afar, it seemed that the white towers rose from the Shivering Sea itself, but in fact there was half a mile from the castle to the water's edge. Unlike Pike, which was located in the sea, the Widow’s Watch stood on a shore, as a soldier, loyal to his duty to defend his country, who does not dare to cross the border to attack the enemy. He looked stronger, younger, especially when the frost on the white towers on a clear day began to sparkle in the sunlight. However, two hours later the gloss became barely visible.

Lady Flint made her horse move to the right, and the Shivering Sea soon disappeared from sight as well. They were riding inland; more and more often they came across traces of vegetation, the blade of the wind touched their faces less. Finally, the grass under the hooves of their horses turned into a continuous green carpet. It seemed that even horses began to tread softly. An hour later they entered the grove of unfamiliar thin trees. Lyessa dismounted, took off her cloak and tied both horses to the sturdiest of the tree trunks.

\- Follow me.

She carried the box with food that was apparently quite heavy for her. Long sheath slammed her legs with every step. Lady Flint stopped on a small clearing. Leaving the provision on the edge of it, she went to the middle of the clearing and drew her sword.

\- I need to know if I can count on you, - a second sword clanged. Light, unruly breeze threw the strands of her hair to her face. - I want to see what you can do.

Lyessa threw him a weapon, and Theon caught it by the hilt at first, but then he almost dropped it. He drew back, shaking all over, holding the blade at arm's length, as if he was actually afraid of a bite of the casted snake on the hilt.

\- Where did you get it? – the blade was shaking. Theon did not take his eyes off it. – That belonged to my lord.

\- Which lord? - Lyessa tilted her head.

Theon looked up at her – he had the same hunted look on the day when she stunned him in the stream of the Frozen creek.

\- Lord Bolton.

\- Oh, - she straightened her shoulders and rolled her eyes - and why am I not surprised ... Now it belongs to you.

\- Forgive me, my lady. I cannot take it, - Theon thrust the sword into the ground and carefully walked a few steps to the side, still glancing at the weapon. He stepped from foot to foot, as if he were ready to dart off. Lyessa started losing her patience.

\- So you do not need a sword? - Her lips curled into a hard line. Theon shook his head in denial. – We do not keep something we do not need in the Widow's Watch. After we get back, I'll send this sword back to Lord Bolton. With you.

He stopped rocking and for a several seconds stared at Lyessa with frightened eyes. Then he returned to the sword and trudged back to her, holding it in his hand.

\- What are you doing, dragging a dead chicken?

Theon stopped ten feet away and looked up. He avoided looking at her, his eyes constantly darted from the environment to the opponent. Then he held his breath and raised the sword in front of himself, grasping the hilt with both hands.

\- You look like septa that picked up the blade for the first time.

It seemed like none of her words could inspire confidence in him, and Lyessa just rushed forward, making one attack after another, delivering a blow after blow. Her angry attack would not have any effect if she would face with a cold-blooded rival like Roose Bolton, but Theon Greyjoy, who lost it even to his own memory, was almost kneeling. He did not even try to attack, and when his attempts to defend himself became way too pathetic, Lyessa knocked his blade aside and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

 

\- Seven Hells, are you going to fight or not?! - She angrily shoved the sword back into the sheath. Theon, who stretched on the grass after the hit, sat up quickly, but did not dare to rise, clutching the bandaged fingers to his cheek and staring at Lady Flint with eyes, full of horror. He looked as if he was sentenced to death, ready to beg for mercy and endure any humiliation at any moment.

\- I cannot believe that Stark has entrusted you with his life, and that you took it and took Winterfell! My cooks are a thousand times braver than you! Who has even written all these tales about the siege of Winterfell ?! There is only thing that doesn’t seem doubtful - that your own father despised you so much that he chose to leave you in the hands of that perverted lord. And you know what? He had every reason to behave that way.

Lyessa turned away, trying to catch his breath. After making a few sips from a flask, she sat on a rock and fell silent, pressing her hands to her head.

\- We have to go back now, - she finally said. Theon fidgeted, rising. Then he bent down to get the sword, and the cloak, and the rope that fell out of his pocket, and it seemed to Lyessa that he will never straighten up again. That in his attempts to take as little space as possible he will walk like this forever, tightened, crooked lump in tatters, looking like a fool or a senile, insane maester. She looked away in disgust and walked to the horses.

\- Lady Flint - called Theon, when they almost reached the edge of the grove. She chose to pretend not to hear him, but he repeated. - Lady Flint!

\- What? - she whirled. Theon stopped. He looked anxious.

\- Do you hear it?

\- No, - Lyessa shrugged her shoulders, - I hear nothing.

\- I don’t hear anything as well, - nodded Theon. - And horses usually make sounds.

It seemed to her that the air suddenly thickened to the hum in her ears. Without another step, she slowly looked around and drew the sword at the same time. There was no more than fifty feet left to the place where they tied the horses, but, of course, there were no horses there no more. The silence itself was not the only evidence – they could see the fragments of the area from where they stood. Ready to make a sign, she glanced at Theon and found him with Bolton’s sword in his hands. Her fingers froze still in the air


	8. Chapter 8

Most of the inhabitants of Westeros would describe the landscape around them as dull and lifeless. For what can be born by the earth, which hardened as ice in order to stop the tide of the Shivering Sea? The wind, generated by their collisions, dug into defenseless throats of chatterers like a blade, as they recklessly opened their mouths. Later, while sitting in the warm and stuffy taverns, they took pleasure in blaspheming the north-eastern shore of the continent, but inwardly they shuddered, remembering the irresistible wind, the roar of the surf and almost glassy ground under their feet. It took only a dozen steps on such ground for their effete knees to ache. Because it was the life - unusual for them, they couldn’t understand or control it, because it was immensely higher than their petty dissensions and pathetic judgments.

Lyessa was partially proud that now, as she was walking along the rocky shore, she felt herself as if she went from one of the chambers of the Widow’s Watch to another. Even the setting sun did not scare her, but on the contrary, softened the surrounding outlines, like a light of the thoughtfully lit torches. She turned around: Theon walked a dozen meters behind, completely lost in thought.

\- We must hurry! - Lyessa shouted, holding down the hood. Her companion looked up and nodded curtly, without trying to outdo surf. Shadows just began to get longer when they left the grove. Before that Lyessa and Theon thoroughly searched it through, but found not a single trace of the missing horses or of those who led them away.

\- Must be peasants from Ramsgate, - she suggested, - there’s no more than three leagues to the castle. Or a stray gang of thieves. Anyways, it is unsafe to get back to the Watch now. Night would catch us in a way. It would be better to go there in the morning.

The shelter was a three-hour walk, but judging by the force with which the sea hit the ground, they’d better walk quickly. Fortunately, they got to the place on time.

Carefully trying to step on the scattering stones in front of her, Lady Flint began to get down to the water along a narrow path. A handful of pebbles swept past her boots - Theon held on to the sword, thrust into the path, afraid to move.

\- I go down first, then you will follow me. Hold on to the rocks and step firmly, push your feet into the ground.

There was a platform below, not more than a few meters wide, surrounded by two rocks. Once Theon got down, Lyessa went to the left rock, grabbed it with both hands and stepped on a narrow ledge, which eventually emerged from the water, and then again was swallowed up by the surf.

\- You have to go carefully – there’s a precipice behind this ledge! - the rustle of billion drops took her words away. Lyessa began to crawl around the stone ledge, carefully moving her hands. When the tide covered the ledge, the waves got to her knees.

As soon as she disappeared on the other side, Theon hid his sword and went after her. The rock smelled of mud and was incredibly slippery. The icy acuity of the first wave made him remember about Ramsey’s knife. Theon remained where the water pressed him. He almost could not breathe. It seemed that he will slip into the sea after the first breath. He felt (almost physically) the presence of Ramsey on the platform where he stood a moment ago himself. Alas, he looked ahead and could not turn around to check. Now Ramsey could easily nail his hand to rock. Or just rip the skin on the back of his hand. Theon was waiting for the terrible moment when he would feel the touch to his hand. Or rather, to what was left of it.

Someone touched his other hand.

Theon opened his eyes.

\- Love at first sight? - Lyessa hung nearby. Her hand pressed his fingers to the stone. – You can hug each other in morning when the low tide starts. The rock won’t run away, I swear.

She quickly repeated her trick, disappearing around the corner, and Theon couldn’t do anything else but make the first move.

Behindthe rock, jutted out at the sea, there was a platform, only three times bigger than the previous. The only difference between them was the absence of any paths on this one. When he saw it, Theon felt that his heart stops.

\- Is that a trap?

Waves rolled one after another, fully capturing the narrow ledge of the shore.

\- Oh, Seven hells ... - grumbled Lyessa, and, having climbed the several inconspicuous ledges at a height of two human growth, she disappeared behind a stone fold. It looked like there was a hole in the rock. Lady Flint looked out of it in a couple of minutes. - Your stone lady won’t disappear, I promise. Get up and grab the food. The box is at the bottom ledge.


	9. Chapter 9

He suffers from thirst and pain, but it is the bright light what makes him wake up. He opens his eyes and immediately regrets it: the sun bites into the eyeballs like a hot razor. Theon frantically blinks, and tries to dodge, but without any success. Suddenly the light starts flashing: first it disappears, then again burns his pupils. The one tied to the torture cross sees the patches of sunlight dancing on a wide blade. A flash – and the knife freezes. Another second - and the handle, squeezed between the palms, scrolls back. A flicker – and the right hand shoots forward. A moment later – it gets back.

Fiddling with a knife, Ramsey enthusiastically makes sure with that none of the sunbeams would miss Theon’s face. His opened mouth is frozen in a half-smile, full of anticipation. Theon waits for the torture to continue at any moment, but the bastard remains sitting at the table. The minutes painfully slow fold into quarters, and then – into hours. But Ramsey is just watching. In the end, Theon can think about nothing else, except for what threatens him today. He does not know how much time has passed, he feels terribly tired from the constant tension. And the patches of sunlight fly freely over his body.

\- Please, - his hoarse voice is almost inaudible. – Just a little... just a drop...

Ramsey’s lips curl in a satisfied grin. He puts the knife away, but that’s it, he does nothing more. Theon expects Bolton to splash water at his feet or break the pitcher, but Ramsey only looks at him, his glance passing from one hand to another, from old wounds to those that are still fresh. And this abnormally transparent look is overwhelmed with admiration and anticipation. Ramsey looks at him as a sculptor at his work that has only been half carved out of stone.


	10. Chapter 10

Both hands on the rock at the entrance of the cave, standing on a ledge, which served as a threshold, Theon stared into the darkness in front of him, trying desperately to find a forgotten feeling in his soul. Once upon a time, thousand years ago, he arrived at the Pike on behalf of Stark. He believed that the sea was originally in his blood, despite the fact that he grew up a prisoner of Winterfell. None of the ironborn was afraid of unpredictable, unforgiving element, as one doesn’t fear the threat, alongside which he lives for many years. And he, floating to the shores of Winterfell with his army, feared the thickness of the salt water no more than a war horse or fields, which they crossed later. The sea was just one of many parts of his shining world. And it couldn’t be otherwise, until his blood had a salty taste.

But now icy horror flowed through his body. Heavy twilight, which covered the Shivering sea, erased the line between water and sky, turning the world into a roaring darkness. The tide below him hungrily devoured the shore and rolled back with a rustle. It seemed that somewhere near them in the thick darkness sleeps an ancient creature, and its black side rises with a sigh and then settles on the edges of hungry cliffs. The fire, built by Lyessa, danced behind Theon’s back, and in front of him stretched the abyss. And the longer he stared in, the more he wanted to unclench his fingers.

\- Enchanting, isn’t it?

Theon flinched and looked back to check whether Flint was joking. But Lyessa, who was busy removing the remnants of provisions, remained deadly serious.

\- Darkness is always fascinating, - she stood up and went to the door, taking a flask with her. - But some people need it to see the brighter light, while the others - to dissolve their own darkness within it.

Lady Flint leaned wearily against the wall at the entrance and brought the flask to her lips. While drinking, she watched Theon with narrowed eyes, as if she wanted to determine something for herself.

\- Tell me, - she finally said. - Could you kill Lord Ramsay?

The question caught him by surprise. Theon slowly turned around, shook his head, as if he was about to answer, but he could not find the proper words. He only moved his lips silently a couple of times and, finally, just stared at Lyessa with uncertainty, expecting her to carry on.

\- If Ramsay was here, tied up, without weapons, without guards and soldiers... What would you do?

\- I don’t know.

\- Given the fact that my maids took care of you, I know about everything what he did to you. Wouldn’t you want to carry out your revenge?

\- I do not know. I... – caught in thought for a moment, Theon raised his hand to his head, but then turned and walked a few steps deeper into the cave, hiding himself like a turtle in a shell. - I have no idea. I don’t want to think about it.

\- Three fingers - Lyessa caught his right hand and brought it to Theon’s face. – Now you won’t make even an average archer. And they say you were an excellent one ... Do you remember, how he skinned you?

It looked like an invisible weight fell on Theon’s shoulders: his shoulders slumped, and a broken shadow lay between his eyebrows.

\- If you need it, I will kill him, - he said hastily, without raising his head.

\- Oh, that's how it is! Excellent! – exclaimed Lyessa factitiously, pulling out her sword with a handle in the form of a snake from the sheath lying nearby. - Then go back to Dredfort and pierce the bastard with his own blade.

Theon automatically took the sword and looked at him.

\- What is that you want from me, - his hands were shaking. - What do you want from me?! - he shouted and threw his sword against the further wall. - If I may not stay at the Watch, I will not go back there...

\- Stop screaming like a hysterical bitch, - Lyessa rubbed her temple. - Although it is logical, right? I heard Ramsay made a few “alterations”. So stay, we will find a place in the kitchen or in a pigsty for you.

Lady Flint did not find her sword snatched from its sheath, her throat choked and her body - pressed to the icy rocks. Theon sat at the same place to which he was nailed by Lyessa’s last words - at the exit of the cave - and stared into the darkness. Lady Flint touched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in disbelief. She spread the cloak, dried up by the fire, on one of the ledges and turned to the wall, wrapped in wool. Only then the expression of anger smoothly flowed down from her face, giving way to disappointment and sadness. And for the first time in a long while, her features softened.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Not a single trace was found by Lyessa, as she got out of the cave. The low tide gradually released the shore, and the sun rose from Braavos. It could almost seem that Theon had a dream. However, drops of blood wherever the wounded killer clutched at the stones, did not leave the lady any hope. After wandering along the shore, Lyessa went to the side opposite from one where they came from.

\- Are you afraid that they might attack us on the way to the castle? – asked Theon, when they got to the field. The yesterday wind now was blowing from behind, as if hurrying them to leave this place.

\- It is very unlikely, - said Lyessa without turning around. - Nothing prevented them from attacking us in the daylight, however, the killer came at night. As if he wanted to catch us by surprise. Or maybe he was afraid that I could recognize his face in the daylight, - she thought of sharp-nosed archer. - While it would only be important if he admitted the idea of us surviving. Admitted that he wouldn’t have been able to kill me ... Whatever it was, it is unlikely they will attack us now.

\- Then why don’t we go back to the castle?

\- We are going back, but we chose the short path, - Lyessa turned off the road into the woods, completely covered with bushes without leaves. Holding away the branches that clung to the cloak, she made her way directly through the windfall and her whole appearance refuted the phrase about the shortest path. – The Ramsgate is nearby. There is a tavern at the entrance, its owner knows me since childhood. He will give us a couple of horses.

\- Since childhood? - Theon nervously ran his hand over his face. Spiderweb hung wherever the dried bush did not reach. Its thread stuck to the skin now and then. – But the Widow’s Watch belongs to Flints for many generations.

\- And I was Flint before the marriage, - Lyessa turned briefly, continuing to lead the way through the woods, where human did not seem to set foot since the beginning of time.

\- Did you marry your brother?

\- God forbid! - exclaimed Lady Flint and grinned. – It’s a privilege of queens!

She stopped and raised a hand to show the need for a little breather.

\- Once Flints lived in the mountains on the west to the Wall. First Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, mentioned in the chronicles, was Flint. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wall was built by my ancestors. Then the threat from the North concerned only those who lived nearby ... But apparently surviving under perpetual snow was tiring, so they succumbed to the stories of traders from the South and spread themselves to the mainland. Part took off to the Bear Island, others settled on the place of today's Watch, and the third ones founded Flint’s Finger on the west coast. One of those, who lived there, became a great-great-great-whatever-grandfather of my husband.

Lyessa took a flask from her belt and took a few sips, leaning against the dry wood.

\- But why are you here? - Theon asked, watching, as dilapidated bark poured down to her chestnut hair.

\- Because Flints from the West have more heirs than Targaryens have bastards, and the only child my father had, was me. When he was dying, Robin, my son, was five. Father knew that he would die, and wished to resolve the issue with the inheritance as soon as possible. He wanted his grandson to be the next Lord of the Widows' Watch. And the Keeper of the North - Lord Stark – agreed to help us. Cole became the formal Lord of the Widow’s Watch till Robert’s maturity, and I returned home.

\- And now? ..

\- Now, when my son is dead? – Lyessa’s voice faltered. - When Cole disappeared and the North swore allegiance to Bolton?.. - She looked away. - Sometimes I think this is payback for Flint’s betrayal of their land, for them having gone to the south. Our family is crushed, almost disappeared and, huddling on the outskirts of Westeros, is forced to serve bastards like Ramsey. Does anyone in their right mind would believe now that the first Lord Commander of the Night Watch was Flint?

She brushed the dust from her hair and pulled out the sword, intending to use it in order to pave the way through the particularly strong plexus of branches.

\- I remember you, - suddenly said Theon to her back, his hand on the head of the snake – he kept the sheath with Bolton’s sword to himself.

\- I remember you as well, - quietly answered Lyessa. She repeatedly waved her sword, sending the cut branches into the air. - My father died from wounds he received, helping to quell the uprising of Greyjoys. Only because of his merits Eddard agreed to help us. You were twelve years old when we came to Winterfell.

\- Eleven, my lady.

\- Yeah, right. Less than a year passed since grumpy Balon gave you as a hostage to Ed. Stark never thought of you as of a prisoner, though. He wanted to introduce us to Robb back then, but it turned out that, on the contrary to the prohibition of his father, his eldest son went to hunt squirrels. Guess with whom, - said Lyessa. She continued to swing her sword, and was quickly out of breath. Each phrase was said with difficulty. - And then, instead of getting angry, this strange Stark laughed. Ed said, "Just think, I took a hostage, and he just destroyed my father's authority. Robb always tries to get equal to Theon, who is just a year older than him. If he began to embroider, Robb would rush for the needle. I’m lucky that Greyjoy is passionate about archery instead. With these two I can be calm for the fate of the North.”

Some time there was just a whistle of the sword over the dead grove, which cut the remains of the once strong wood ruthlessly. There were no leaves, but somehow the wind couldn’t reach in here, and the accumulation of lifeless trees seemed to be the most stuffy place in the world. It seemed as if the air itself had died and was replaced by colorless, dusty smell of decay. Lyessa remember this place being very different, lively and full-blooded, and therefore felt groing despair with every beat. She swung, but Theon caught her by the arm, and at the same moment the swored clanged. A box with leftovers was shoved to her hands.

\- Follow me and stay ten steps behind, - said his voice. Lyessa drilled the back of his head with a surprised glare. - Otherwise the cut branches will hurt you.


	12. Chapter 12

Fortunately, unlike the grove, the tavern has not changed. Gray two-story building with three bedrooms upstairs and a kitchen downstairs only became a little squatty, grew into a clearing, surrounded by green oaks. Its solid view seemed to be saying that it’s not going to move anywhere from here. And it was still empty inside. After hugs with the old master, jokes about his incredible ability to stay afloat even in the absence of clients, remembering Starks and Flints to the seventh generation, exchanging the stories about their adversities - in other words, after having made a lot of touching rituals, Lyessa finally sat at a table against the further wall of an empty hall. Boiled turnips and roasted meat were lying in their plates. The owner of the tavern approached with a jug of wine, filled their cups, and, having chatted Lyessa for a while, went away to deal with concerns of his own.

\- By the way, he only has one horse, - noticed Lyessa.

\- It was someone from your retinue, the one, who tried to kill you, - suddenly assumed Theon.

Mug froze halfway to Lyessa’s lips.

\- Where would you think so? - she frowned.

\- They stole horses, because they knew that in this case you wouldn’t go back, deciding to spend the night in that cave instead.

\- Ah, - nodded Lady Flint - not bad, but I have to disappoint you, - she sipped some more wine. - I freed the horses myself.

For a few seconds Theon silently watched Flint finishing off her portion with a great appetite.

\- Why?

\- Because I remembered how Ed spoke about you, - Lyessa put the spoon away. - But God knows what's left of you after Dreadfort. I had to check it out.

\- Why? - repeated Theon.

\- Tell me, would you like to join the squad of archers at the Widow's Watch?

Theon excitedly moved away from the table. He rose, and then, without saying a word, he sat down again. He seems to have thought of the answer, but a sudden sound made them both freeze. The sound grew, and with it grew stronger and stronger the heart beat of two visitors of the tavern. Stomp. Stomp of two, or, perhaps, of three dozen horses. Lyessa felt that her fingers became numb, and slowly lowered them to the hilt. They stopped at the door. The riders dismounted behind a wooden wall, just a few meters from them, cursing and laughing. Her breathing unconsciously became silent and short. She felt her knees tense - she was ready to dart off at any moment. Without a doubt, the crowd outside the door headed inside the hotel. Lyessa stared at the entrance through a pile of dust swirling in a sunbeam...

And the door opened.

\- ... And certainly kill a dozen or so, - said the handsome tall brunet in a blue cloak and armor and froze, as he saw Lyessa and Theon. Surging entourage stopped behind, as a wave, stumbled on a rock. Theon impatiently looked from the incomers to Lyessa – the precious time to escape or attack escaped like water through fingers. And suddenly Lady Flint’s facial expression began to change. It looked as if she wanted to smile, but her lips trembled. She rose slowly, and the sword fell from her hands.

\- You son of a bitch, - whispered Lyessa. Theon stared at her with wide eyes, but Flint was not talking to him. – Cole, - she breathed, and the next moment she hugged the brunet, as he picked her carefully up with one hand. The man was a whole head taller than she, so Lady Flint hung on his neck, like some foolish girl in love, clinging to his lips desperately. - Where have you been, where have you been for such a long time, - she mumbled between kisses, clutching his shoulders.

\- Collected a whole citadel of Maesters for you, - a wide, happy smile never left his face. - Actually, I came back at night, but you weren’t at the castle, so we went here to meet you.

\- Cole ... - Lyessa gasped, but then she fell speechless, as she opened her eyes. Behind her husband smiled the same blond archer Lady Flint got rid of with the help of sir Borras. Feeling the tension, Cole put his wife on the floor and was about to ask a question, but a loud, unnaturally cheerful voice outstripped him.

\- Congratulations, Lord Flint, you have found them! Nothing can compare to a successful hunt! – the one, who was speaking, came from behind the retinue, and Lyessa felt her blood run cold at a feverish look of the colorless eyes. – My lady..

Before she tried to hide her hand, Ramsay quickly leaned down and pressed his lips to her fingers. Fleeting touch turned out to be dry and rough. He caught her fingers with his palms, as he straightened up.

\- We met Lord Fling on the road, - he said with a polite smile, but rather hastily. - I brought you provision and medicaments. The Keepers of the North must help their vassals, - he released her hand.

\- We are not your vassals, - Lyessa was outraged. Cole squeezed her waist, but the words hit Ramsay in the back. He didn’t seem to be interested in others anymore.

\- Well, hello there, Reek, - Ramsey stopped a few steps away from the table. Theon's throat got dry, and his legs became weak. He couldn’t even remember that his hand was lying on the handle in the form of a snake’s head. He could not take his eyes off the satisfied squint, fearing that if it got closer, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the scream. But Ramsay did not move, as if he was kept away by an invisible barrier, he only raised himself slightly on his toes in anticipation. He pulled out a coin from his pocket and handed it to Theon. - Here you go, Reek.

Theon did not move, and Ramsay put the silver on the table.

\- Thank you for keeping my sword.

He knew it very well that Greyjoy is unable to think straight or reasonable right now, just as wild animals are that only follow their instincts, but he enjoyed this hitch. Finally, Ramsey raised his eyebrows and pointed to the sword with his eyes. Theon hesitantly took it out of its sheath, turned it with a sharp end to himself and handed the sword over to Snow.

\- Oh, no, no, no, where do you think I am supposed to wear it? – Ramsay raised his hands with a completely trusting look. That was way too much: Lyessa wished to intervene, but Cole pulled her to himself, not letting to get away. Theon hopelessly stood up and unhooked the sheath from his belt. Ramsay waited. He impatiently twirled his hands, without taking a single step. Theon approached him with silent stealth of a stray dog that had its ribs repeatedly broken by village boys. He avoided to look at Ramsay, as he raised his cloak and hooked the sheath to his belt. He was almost shaking - Ramsay was surrounded by a subtle smell of dampness, which instantly returned the image of the chamber, where he kept Theon at first, to his memory. So Theon drew back, hardly able to keep himself from bowing. Ramsey lowered his hands.

  
\- Thank you, Reek, - he said it distinctly, as if he thought that Theon could not hear him. Then he turned around. - Well, Lord Flint, - he clapped his hands, - now I think I am just unable to refuse to accept your invitation!


	13. Chapter 13

Pink color was sickening and reminded of the flesh flayed. And if it was not for the presence of Lord and Lady Flint, the Northern wind would have ruffled Bolton’s cloak on the hayforks for a long time already. There was hardly anyone else, whom the inhabitants of the Widow’s Watch hated more than the Lord of Winterfell, Dreadfort and Hornwood. And now dozens of eyes of those, who came here to meet her and Cole at the main gate, followed the riders with hostile blank glances.

\- What the hell is he doing here?! - said the very first servant, who brought water for Lyessa’s bath. Her tone didn’t hurt lady Flint at all. She wanted to know herself what for did Cole bring the man, who was convinced (by the rumors) of stealing people and brutally torturing the prisoners for his own entertainment, to the Watch. Alas, all the way up to the castle Bolton’s bastard rode next to them, not giving them a single chance to talk face-to-face. 

However, a couple of times he left them to check his retinue (or so he said), which was bringing up the rear, but then Lyessa twirled uncomfortably, fearing for Theon. He was riding three or four horses behind, and every time Ramsey really just flew past him, as if he forgot about his loyal Reek, whose muscles went stiff whenever his master approached. Making sure that the threat has passed, Lyessa breathed in deeply and invariably came across the mocking look of a man who was riding right behind her. The blond archer, whose name she did not bother to find out. However, now he was the least of her problems.

\- Myrra, - called Lyessa in a tired voice, getting into the hot tub. Maid rattled with empty buckets, looking hurt. - Tell everyone you meet to be careful with Bolton and his soldiers. There are fifty of them, they wouldn’t dare to start an open battle. There must be a trick ...

The maid sat in a chair and angrily brushed the dress Lyessa was going to wear at the dinner. A year ago Myrra’s seventeen years old son, the blacksmith’s assistant, disappeared and no one at the Watch had a single doubt about what happened to him. 

\- I need to know that I can trust my people, Myrra. You trust me, don’t you?

\- I do not know, my lady, - finally sighed the maid. – It’s jus… he rode into the courtyard so confident… as if he was a master of everything…

\- Myrra, - Lady Flint somehow felt herself calm, like never before. - Do you really think that I would give my father's castle to this madman? ..


	14. Chapter 14

Theon paced across his small room at the lowest level of the Storm Tower in terrible disarray. This room couldn’t be locked from the inside, and in the first place he wanted to move a table or a bed up to the door, but then he thought of whether he had the right to use Lady Flint’s property like that. Even more terrible idea came across his mind later - what if this barrier will not stop Lord Ramsey? Then he will punish him, he will punish him for sure for his attempt to hide. Maybe it would be better to leave the door wide open? .. Theon turned to the door, but the mere idea of looking out into the corridor at this moment nearly made him cry in horror. He was exhausted by fear and doubt. And then the door flew open.

\- Oh, Seven, - Jenny seemed to be bemused by his appearance. - What's wrong with you? - She jokingly looked under the bed. – I don’t see Lord Snow in here.

Theon ran around the bed and slammed the door shut, for it was recklessly left open by the girl. As he turned around, he saw a shirt and a dark waistcoat hanging in her hands.

\- It… He sent it? - His look became completely insane.

\- No-o, - answered the puzzled girl. - Lady Lyessa did. But they want you to have dinner with them. You, Lady Lyessa, Lord Flint and Lord Snow.

Theon turned pale, feeling the weakness coming all over him, but then, having collected the rest of his will, pulled himself together. He quietly took clothes from Jenny, laid it on the bed and began to dress.

\- I ... I do not understand how you can remain so calm, - he said, hurriedly undoing the buttons.

\- It's simple, - Jenny stopped for a moment at the door. Her eyes were bright from calm superiority. - Lord Snow is going to die very soon.

 

***

 

If Jenny’s weapon was poison, she would have had to poison the Flints as well. As he stepped inside the banquet hall, Theon saw a table with common dishes all over it. It must have been the decision of Lord Flint, designed to assure the guest from Dreadfort in his complete security.

In the plate in front of Lady Flint rested untouched piece of a pie and her goblet of wine was almost full. She sat on the left of her husband, who was located at the head of the table; the place on his right was empty, and Ramsay sat a little further. Theon had no choice but to occupy the chair next to Lyessa, which was exactly opposite to Bolton. Former tormentor smiled so widely, as if Theon was Prince Joffrey and not a runaway Reek.

\- So, - Lord Flint continued the interrupted conversation. - Your help will really be of use to us; thanks to it we will be able to defeat the disease, and for that all of us are extremely grateful to you.

\- Yes, yes, yes, - Ramsay waved off the praise, lifting the cup, - but I'm terribly sorry for being so late. Six hundred and fifty men lost, who could have thought. After all, at the beginning of the week lady Lyessa lady said that you have twice as many people ...

Ramsey raised his eyebrows, leering at lord Flint. Lyessa remained icy calm under his charge.

\- The disease is unpredictable, Lord Bolton, - she said after a pause. - I hope you will not get infected.

\- Thank you for taking care of my health, lady Flint. You were less supportive towards your neighbours. Manderlays from White Harbor were extremely surprised when all of a sudden three ships from the infected castle appeared at their harbor.

Lord Flint put his fork aside.

\- Old Lord Wyman pulled out the rest of his hair , but agreed to wait, leaving the crew in prison, - continued Ramsey, sending a piece of pork into his mouth. - And do you know, what we found out? Half of the fishermen appeared to be Widow’s Watch soldiers, and the other half was pirates, - Ramsey smiled and swallowed the air, silently laughing. - Watchmen and pirates in the same boat! Old crazy Manderlay went a little crazy again - with joy. When he attempted to send a crow to the king, he kept saying that the Watch will be given to him for his loyalty to the crown. I barely managed to talk him out of it. After all, if it was a simple mutiny of soldiers, there will be nothing but executions of the crews, however, the shame of the Manderlay’s false accusation would not be washed away till his death. He has got not so much time left anyways.

Ramsay began to eat. Lord Flint glanced anxiously at his guest and back at his wife, not knowing what to say. Lyessa sat still, barely alive from horror.

\- How ... how many people got ill in White Harbor because of our ships? - she said in a weak voice, which sounded unfamiliar to Theon.

\- Not a single one, - said Ramsay.

\- Can we somehow make Lord Manderlay’s concern up? - asked Lyessa evenly, having got hold of herself. Lord Flint stared in astonishment at his wife, who has actually confessed in collaboration with the pirates. Ramsay did not respond, consuming the fried meat with a side dish of stewed vegetables with mushrooms with a great appetite. He reached for the bread that was closer to Lyessa, and looked up at her with mocking, full of anticipation smile. Then he briefly glanced at Theon and asked an unexpected question.

\- Have you already decided what you are going to do with Reek?

 


	15. Chapter 15

Lyessa withdrew her hand from her face.

\- I barely managed to resist the urge to shove the fork into his eye, - a dozen of candle lights trembled in front of her, tormented by the drafts. Old bedroom, located at the Storm Tower, which was the closest on to the water, became especially unbearable during the windy weather. Lyessa, however, did not seem to notice the cold. - And, you know, it's not about blackmail. It’s about Bolton talking of him as of a thing.

\- His thing, - said Cole, removing blue scarf - the color of the cloack and the wave on the Flint’s coat of arms – from his neck. After Stark granted him the castle, Cole Flint gave up the coat of arms of his clan in favor of his wife’s coat of arms and instantly became the object of ridicule from Silicon Finger family members. Well - none of these clowns were going to get their own castle, and he himself liked the blue color more than gray. Coats, scarves and wide indigo colored cuffs became permanent attributes of his costume, the symbols of his superiority over less fortunate brothers and cousins.

\- Cole! – Lyessa’s objurgatory voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She sat at the table between two windows closed for the night, and her straight back seemed to be harder than the stone which was used to build Storm Tower. - He is not going to get Theon!

\- Yes, during the dinner you made your point very clear, my dear, - Cole neatly folded his coat on the bed. - You're so worried about him that I'm afraid to imagine what will happen to you when you will remember about our sixty soldiers that were sentenced to death in the White Harbor.

\- Look, what if Bolton's bluffing? .. We must send a crow to Manderley.

\- And what is going to be in the note? "Didn’t you come across three ships from the castle with a very contagious disease"?

Lyessa did not seem to be touched by this mockery. She seemed to become more and more certain about her assumption.

\- If there had not been just rumors at the disposal of our guest, he would have known that there were five ships, - Lyessa looked up at her husband. He sighed, sat down on the bed and patiently folded his hands on his knees. Lyessa raised her hands, as if to apologize. - You've been gone for too long, we were starving. And I sent the ships not only to the gulf. "Red Dragon" went to Braavos with Mads, and "The Storm" went to the Port of Ibben under Borras’s command. Soon they'll be back. With arms. Mercenaries. With a fleet of whalers and a reserve of fuel that will be enough to burn the whole Dreadfort. And perhaps we won’t need to pledge allegiance to Boltons tomorrow. 

As she finished speaking, Lyessa turned away. Invisible hands of cold reached for her from the closed windows, and their icy touch brought comfort. Yet lady Flint’s fingers, lying on top of a blank parchment, were trembling with excitement. She wanted to get rid of the uncomfortable dress immediately, to put on pants and sheath, and end the empty waiting for the inevitable. Cole’s palm covered her hand.

\- My lady, - he dropped down to one knee in front of her, - may I claim at least a part of your triumph over the invaders of the North? - Lyessa smiled and Cole continued. - Of course, I can not do without you: it is you people call the mistress of the Watch and I’m just "that man in a blue cloak." But I would be grateful if you remembered that now I am next to you.

He jokingly pressed his lips to her knee, visible under the thin silk of the skirt, making her gasp in surprise, and then he picked her up in his arms. She only got to kick him in the back for a few times, before landing across the bed. Cole was hanging over her, and Lyessa arched, feeling a strong desire to belong to him. Had he left the scarf on, she would eagerly pulled him towards herself. Instead, she grabbed him with her legs and pushed, making her man roll over on his back. Now Lyessa looked down at him, slowly undressing herself.

\- Wait, - her fingers froze on the second hook of the dress.

\- What?

\- What is the name of the archer, whom you appointed as a commander?

\- Oh, Seven ... Is it so important?

\- Yes.

\- Must we discuss random men in our bed all night long?

\- Cole, - she put her hands on his chest.

\- My love .., - he started, carefully putting one of her chestnut curls behind her ear, however,the determined look of his wife left him with no hope. - Okay. Brian. His name is Brian. Brian Frey.

\- Frey? – Lyessa’s eyes instantly gathered all the ice of the Shivering sea. – Did you say “Frey”?

\- Lyessa, - his fingers, ducking under the silk, slid from the knees to her thighs, but it was too late.

\- Freys betrayed Starks, - said the ice statue above him.

\- Just as Greyjoys. 

\- But Greyjoys didn’t kill our son! - her breath was torn, as if Lyessa could hardly keep herself from sobbing. - And what if it was Brian who...

\- No, Brian finished off Jon Umber, Smalljon, - Lord Flint covered his eyes with his hand wearily. - Lord Bolton assured me of this.

\- Lord Bolton? - Liessa blinked, leaning back. Her lifeless hands slid from the chest of her husband.

\- Roose Bolton. I met them in White Harbor, when he got on the ship to the capital. Observers were a pledge that Boltons would not touch the Watch until my return.

\- Observers? - Lyessa rose from the bed in distress.

\- One! Lyessa, I swear, we only had one!

The sudden calmness of his wife seemed to Cole more frightening, than her anger. The dismissed, resigned look she gave to her husband, made her look like a god, who was leaving the world he created just a moment before its destruction. When Lyessa walked out of the room, adjusting her dress, Cole buried his face in bed with a groan. He felt himself very badly.


	16. Chapter 16

At first Theon thought that among old nightmares with wolves, who had faces of children instead of their jaws, among new nightmares, filled with bloody haze of pain, he finally found a wonderful shard of a crystal, a small memory he could carefully keep every night to forget about the darkness. Like a candle, lit by old Nan in the bedroom of a small Bran.

"Since all of my guards have died from the disease, - said Lyessa, - I want Theon to become one of my bodyguards."

An incredible, undeserved gift fell into his hands, and Theon could not take his eyes off Ramsay, waiting for him to take it away.

"In my opinion, this is a wonderful decision, Lord Flint. With him your wife will be safe. Well, you know - in all senses. "

Theon could not believe his ears. Even a greasy grin that twisted Ramsay’s lips was not able to kill the hope growing in his heart. Lady Flint gently touched his hand under the table, perhaps, she feared that Bolton’s jokes can make him angry, but they faded in the background of the hint on illusory freedom, as the stars pale when the dawn comes. And warm Lyessa’s touch finally turned a desired mirage into reality. Theon did not look up, afraid to show the feelings that filled him to the core.

All of it lasted only untill Ramsey said: "Congratulations, Reek." The old nickname lashed his cheeks like icy water, which woke him up every day in Dreadfort. Reek. His servant, his Reek. Bolton obviously enjoyed Theon’s reaction, looking at him over the goblet, and when he heard the story about attempt of the assassination from Lyessa, he suggested to knight him.

Lord Bolton turned it all into a farce, into his next joke. And looking at the dark ceiling of his room, Reek was amazed by himself - how did he managed to ingratiate himself with Lady Flint so that she allowed him to stay in the castle? He felt like a thief who made his way to the royal apartments; all that he wanted was to leave them, to go to the stables or kennels, where he was in the right place. But first – he must see Lord Bolton. 

Reek rose, pressing his feet to the icy floor.

He must see him to ask whether the lord is angry with him, and to get an answer: "No, Reek, I'm not angry."

Theon put his boots on.

"I want Theon to become one of my bodyguards."

He flinched as if he got hit.

Oh, what was he doing, what was he doing?! He was shivering as if in fever, and his hair stuck to the face, wet from the cold sweat. What would Lady Flint say, seeing him now like this? This room, saturated with fear, had nothing do with him now, as well as the fear itself, it all belonged to the broken prisoner of Lord Bolton, to the Reek, and he is no Reek, he is an ironborn, he is the heir of Pike, and his name is Theon Greyjoy!

Theon doubled over and vomited.


	17. Chapter 17

The dark, starless nights, when the sea blended with the sky, turning into the void, filled with wind, were familiar to Lyessa since her early childhood. By the weak, barely discernible spots on the horizon she could easily recognize Braavos distant lights in the east or the White Harbor in the west, the south was dark, and the north beckoned her with a ghostly flickering line, barely visible on the horizon. Billions of snowflakes of eternal winter that stashed the light for millennium, gave it away only in the darkest night. So her father said as they climbed to the very dome of the Sea Tower.

Unlike the other towers of Westeros castles, here, over the battlements, one could find steel plates , fixed on the wide wooden cone. Mad howling draft swallowed words and in order to speak one had to bend over to the other, but it was the lesser of two evils – if it was not for the dome, not even the strongest knight would be able to come here because of the hurricaine. 

Releasing the archers from their duty, Lyessa was left alone with her memories and dark chaos around. Other castles were not half as good as Widow's Watch,which defeated the most terrible opponents throughout centuries: eternal rebellious sea, wind, sharp as a blade, and ruthless time. It seemed that even if Westeros was covered with eternal winter and night, in the end, there would be only two buildings left: the Wall and the Widow’s Watch. Sometimes Lyessa thought that the castle was built by direct descendants of those who created the Wall.

And now, standing in the wind, that tore her hair and coat, looking at the weak glow of the northern side, Lady Flint felt peace. When the time comes, she will know what to do. In the castle, which was able to force the chaos of Shivering Sea to accept its existence, it could not be otherwise. Three-quarters of its residents knew how to use the weapons, but all of them were loyal to her, and therefore even a kitchen knife and pitchwork could be turned into weapons if necessary.There was no need to worry about that; people could hardly restrain themselves in the presence of Bolton.  
  
\- Is Flint really so bad that you would prefer this old attic to his bed? – Lyessa’s hand darted to the scabbard, but, of course, could only grab a skirt. - Are you not afraid to catch cold?

Brian Frey stood at the exit to the platform, leaning against the wall with his hands crossed on his chest. The darkness of the night left a bright spot instead of his face, but Lyessa had no doubt that there was a frozen, selfish smirk on Frey’s sharp-nosed face.

Instead of answering, the silhouette walked away from the wall and slowly headed towards her. Armed, a full head taller than her Frey would have no troubles with snapping Lyessa’s neck or pushing her to the rocks through the holes between the battlements. But Lady Flint did not move, waiting for the archer to show his intentions. Frey stopped two feet from her, defiently putting a gloved hand on the snake's head – he got his sword back.

\- What do you want? - Lyessa pulled out her hands from under the cloak, trying to sound calm.

\- Well, I came to find out for what sake my archers were removed from the guard posts.

\- Your archers?

\- Well, not yours. I only obey Lord Flint.

\- Wow, and I thought you obey Bolton.

\- You will catch cold, my lady, - he repeated with emphasis, and there was no care in his voice. Frey smiled. - It can be dangerous at your age. Especially if you still want to leave the Watch a heir.

The blood rushed to her face, and if Frey stood a little further, it would be possible to thank the northern night for its cover. But his narrowed eyes, the smile, that did not leave his face, were clearly showing that none of the emotions that burnt her heart remained a mistery to him. Swallowing down the rage, Lyessa attempted to go around Frey, who was slowly taking off his gloves, but, as she almost passed him, she felt a slight touch to her hair. She turned around in anger.

\- I like your hair, Lady Flint, - said Frey. Now he was standing sideways to the wind, and draft threw light hair strands on his face. – Robin’s was quite different.

Wind pressed the cloak to one of his shoulders, swingling it on the other side. Tousled hair at the nape. Raised collar. That was how Lyessa saw her father here, and her husband also looked like that. And the presence of this man on the roof of the Sea Tower seemed blasphemous, causing her nausea. She turned away in disgust.


End file.
